


Day Eight: Witchcraft/Potions/Black Cat

by Euphorion



Series: Writober [8]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Making Out, Witchcraft, that's about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-11
Updated: 2016-10-11
Packaged: 2018-08-21 19:19:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8257409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Euphorion/pseuds/Euphorion
Summary: Suga sighed, taking his place at his side and returning his hand to the small of his back again, running his thumb over his spine to try and reassure him. Daichi tried the next few lines, his voice still halting, and then sighed. “Suga.”
  Suga blinked. He’d fallen a little into the working of it, the sounds of the syllables. He always liked how defensive spells sounded—solid, reassuring—and in Daichi’s voice even moreso. “Huh?”  Daichi flipped the notebook closed. “I don’t think I can do this.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is the most direct sequel to another writober fic so far - it may benefit from reading my [day four](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8211802) and [day six](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8247944) pieces.

Suga propped his head on his hand, watching Daichi carefully tilt saltwater from a green glass bottle into his cauldron. He was _good_ at this. Suga shouldn’t be surprised—Daichi was good at everything—but his own power was so. It felt like a seed, inside him—he’d watered it and nurtured it and let it grow but the shape it grew into was a mystery until it bloomed. He felt at his most powerful and most peaceful in green spaces, in natural magicks, with all the unpredictability of a storm and the waiting creative power of the sun.

Daichi did magic like he did math. He even made the same face, his tongue sticking out from the corner of his mouth just a little, his eyebrows drawn together. He worked steadily, methodically, checking Suga’s notebook occasionally, measuring powders and liquids carefully. By this point when he’d done this spell Suga had already been letting his magic just—show him what to do, trusting an instinct he was still getting used to having.

Daichi corked the bottle of saltwater and looked up, catching him staring. He blushed, and Suga bit his lip, hard. Speaking of things he was still getting used to having.

He wandered over to peer over Daichi’s shoulder, casually slipping a hand up into his shirt, just letting it rest at the small of his back. Daichi shot him a Look, which Suga met with an innocent smile. “You’re doing really well,” he said. “You wanna try the spoken stuff?”

They were in one of the school’s unused sports sheds. Suga had cleared away all the equipment the first time he was in here. Now, his cauldron bubbled over a small fire which would (hopefully) not scorch the floor too much—Suga was feeding it sticks so he wouldn’t have to use his will to keep it burning, but he’d started it with magic, and while it licked up to the edges of the chalk circle at its base it did not pass them. Suga’d also set up a little bubble to catch the smoke, which was filling and filling and darkening and darkening as they worked. Hopefully it would be dark outside by the time they left and he could tow it out and pop it without anyone paying any mind.

Daichi looked uncertain, but nodded.

Suga cocked his head at him. “What are you worried about? You’re doing great.”

Daichi shrugged. “The other night, it. Kind of seemed like it hurt to speak like that.”

Suga took a breath. Thinking about the other night—about the great looming presence of the moon, the way the world had taken him as its lungs, the sight of Daichi’s pale, drained face—he closed his eyes and willed it away, away from the cozy shed and its crackling fire and this boy, very much alive. “That did hurt,” he admitted, opening his eyes to find Daichi reaching for him. His movement stuttered for a moment when Suga saw him but he continued, as if determined to finish what he started, brushing his knuckles up Suga’s jaw. Suga smiled helplessly at him. “It did hurt,” he said again, “but that’s not the kind of speech you’ll be using today. Hopefully you won’t ever have to use that, and I hope I never need to again either.” He sighed. “My job—our job, now—is to defend against harmful or dangerous magics being done within our territory. That night, someone was trying to do blood magic, so I had to use the tools and words of blood magic to stop them.” He tucked his hair behind his ear. “This is very simple protective magics, the experience won’t be nearly so traumatic.”

Daichi nodded. “Yeah,” he said, “okay.” He watched Suga’s face for another minute, and Suga thought for a second he might kiss him. He tried to look as open to that idea as possible. Instead, Daichi turned back to the notebook, squaring his shoulders. “So,” he said, “where?”

Suga reached in front of him and turned his notebook to the correct page. “Step back from the cauldron,” he advised. “Better to run some drills before we try and take the court, right?”

Daichi gave him a look. “This isn’t like volleyball, and don’t patronize me. I’m your captain, not the other way around.” But he stepped back from the cauldron anyway.

Suga stepped back with him. “Of course this is like volleyball,” he said, smiling. He caught Daichi’s eyes and lowered his voice a little. “But you’re right, you _are_ my captain.”

Daichi’s face heated again and he glanced at the notebook, back at Suga’s face, and then stuttered his way through the first line. Suga sighed, taking his place at his side and returning his hand to the small of his back, running his thumb over his spine to try and reassure him. Daichi tried the next few lines, his voice still halting, and then sighed. “Suga.”

Suga blinked. He’d fallen a little into the working of it, the sounds of the syllables. He always liked how defensive spells sounded—solid, reassuring—and in Daichi’s voice they seemed even moreso. “Huh?”

Daichi flipped the notebook closed. “I don’t think I can do this.”

Suga stared at him. “What?” he said. “Why, you’re fine, of course you’re not going to get it right on the first—”

Daichi shook his head. “No, I mean—with, with you touching me.”

Suga took his hand back quickly. “Oh,” he said, his stomach swooping. “Sorry, I thought—I’ll stop—”

Daichi caught his hand. “Stop that,” he said firmly. “I just mean—you said that whatever you’re thinking about gets caught up in the spell and can have different effects, right?”

Suga nodded, puzzled.

Daichi scratched his chin, squinting in embarrassment. “Well,” he said, “I’m—I’m not really trying to make a love potion.”

Suga’s heart went liquid. “Oh,” he said, and stepped closer, reaching up to cup Daichi’s jaw. “Daichi.”

“Sorry,” muttered Daichi. “What you’re teaching me is important and I’m just getting distracted but I’m, like, really—”

Suga ran his hand around the back of Daichi’s neck and kissed him softly. Daichi made a soft _oh_ noise against his mouth and kissed back, slow and careful, the same way he did magic, the same way he did math—absolutely determined to do this right.

“Don’t be stupid,” Suga murmured against his lips. “I’ve been trying to get you to make a move all afternoon.”

Daichi blinked at him between kisses. “You have?”

Suga dug his fingertips into Daichi’s side, mock-offended. Mostly mock. “You didn’t notice me being all sexy?”

Daichi firmed up his stomach muscles against his hands in what Suga recognized as an attempt not to laugh, but it still made all his blood leave his head in a rush. It really, really wasn’t helped by Daichi walking him backward against the shed wall, or by his growled, “you’re always sexy,” his voice pulled low by Suga’s lips.

Suga kissed him again, hard and open-mouthed, his hands fisted in his shirt. Daichi’s mouth was big and so warm, both his hands on Suga’s neck, his thumbs in Suga’s hair. Suga’s hips were twisting just from the slide of Daichi’s tongue on his, just from the feeling of being held in his hands.

“Suga,” Daichi breathed, pulling away, “what if someone comes in—”

Suga smirked, unable to look at anything but his mouth. “You’re not worried that we might be found doing witchcraft, but the idea that we might be caught making out—”

The door of the shed banged open. Hinata, mid sentence, stumbled through it. “—told you they wouldn’t be here—”

He stopped. Kageyama, behind him, also stopped. Both of them stared.

Daichi slowly lowered his hands from Suga’s jaw, his face crimson. “What about both?” he asked out of the side of his mouth.

Suga, unable to control himself, burst out laughing.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry about the lack of a black cat! But he'll show up again soon, don't worry.


End file.
